The Scent of Power
by Nora Summers
Summary: Harry's hero complex has become too much, and some of his friends are going to teach him a lesson. But who will protect Harry, when he is incapable of protecting others let alone himself? Can danger really be the result of a harmless joke among friends?
1. Day 1

**The scent of power**

_by Gomenace_

Disclaimer: The universe of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing some of her characters for entertainment. I make no money on any of my writings.

Warnings: This story will be slash eventually, but there is only a mentioning of male/male pairings in this chapter. If you don't like slash, don't read this story. I won't accept critique on the fact that my story contains slash, but constructive criticism of my writing and/or plot is highly appreciated.

Rating: Rated M for future sexual scenes and adult themes. This chapter contains snogging and foreplay (male/female).

A/N: As this is my first fan fiction ever, I would much enjoy a few words in a review from any reader that might stumble upon my story. In case possible, I would also like a beta reader, since my English needs quite a few corrections ;) I haven't quite decided the length of this story, but 7 chapters at least. It will depend on the response I get and what my muse tells me :)

Until further notice, everything I write is dedicated to my beloved smaller sister, Maja, who, however, will not see this story, before she has been 'cured' of her homophobia. Furthermore, I believe she is too young to read mature content, so I hope that she'll enjoy my writings – and slash in general, when she reach a proper age. I won't force it down her throat, or course :P But I might suggest reading some.

* * * *

**Chapter one:**

The party had been going on quite a while and in a few hours the sun would rise. Only a few select members of the party elite were still standing, but it was only a matter of time, before gravity would claim them too.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas had departed some time ago: in the company of one another, of course. Both wearing tell tale signs of lust; glazed over eyes, slightly parted lips and incapability of not touching the other. It was well know that the two Gryffindors were very much in love, but only under the influence of alcohol, would they act upon those feelings.

Seamus and Dean were not the only Gryffindors at the party, or the only two in love. The couple of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were preparing to take their leave as well. They were, however, having a hard time getting ready, due to heavy snogging. Snogging had the most unexpected effect on Hermione; she _forgot_ about things! Things that she would normally pay attention to. What she failed to notice at the moment was the missing part of the Golden Trio. One Mister Harry Potter.

Harry sat in a chair not far from the snogging pair, not quite aware of his surroundings and quietly humming an incoherent melody not yet known to men. Had anyone been less intoxicated, they would have noticed this, seeing that the sight of Harry Potter drunk was as unusual as an ugly veela, and much can be said about veela, but they are never described as ugly (unless, of course, you anger a full veela woman. Not a pleasant sight or experience). It wasn't that Harry didn't drink, but rather that he had a hard time letting go of his control and therefore never drank more than a beer or two. Over the years, his sense of duty had grown too big and now, even after defeating Voldemort, he constantly felt the need to be available should a sudden emergency arise.

His friends had, of course, teased him mercilessly about the issue, but he always just smiled knowingly and brought them home, when the alcohol made them a danger to others as well as them selves. Frequent occurrences of him bringing them home in an intoxicated state were the reason why Harry's friends got together with one goal: Get. Harry. Drunk. This they did to prove to Harry that even if he is not around, the world still stands in the morning. Nonetheless, another reason for doing this might also be the slight embarrassment his friends felt, whenever they woke up at home with no memory whatsoever of how they got there and a hangover potion by their side, courtesy of Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World.

Harry had had no intention of drinking at this party either, but after the end of the war the houses at Hogwarts had united and Harry had gotten to know quite a few Slytherins during their seventh and last school year. Something he was probably going to regret come morning, as Gryffindors and Slytherins in the same room could be a lethal combination, more so when working together. Hermione and Ron were still not exactly fond of the Slytherins, but they were aware that they would need the cunning behaviour of the Slytherins to trick Harry into drinking more than he usually would.

So, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Ginny – with help from Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson – made sure that everything drinkable at the party was spiked with alcohol (making sure not to alter the taste with the alcohol, since Harry would then quickly catch on and stop drinking all together). Yet, they neglected to notice that with _every_ beverage turned into alcohol, they would also become extensively drunk rather quickly themselves.

One might have thought that this Gryffindor/Slytherin-scheme was the reason sleeping people lay about on the floor and on the furniture. They had passed out from too much alcohol while dancing or heading for another drink, but this happened at most parties, so the real difference was that none of those people would wake in their own beds with hangover potions next to their pillows. Their saviour was going to need the hangover potions for himself in the morning.

"Harry?" Hermione disentangled herself from Ron long enough to remember that she was supposed to make sure of something. Something that had something to do with Harry. Ah, but the thought left her, as Ron attacked her lips once more.

Harry turned his head and blinked, when he heard his name being called by a familiar, soft voice. He sank slowly, trying to rid himself of the fog in his head that wouldn't let him think straight, and answered with a slurred voice. "Mione?"

"C-can you get home by .. by yourself?" It took all of her will power to focus just partly on Harry, when the promise of pleasure in bed was standing so close to her. Hell, he was touching her! One cannot expect a woman to be perceptive under these circumstances.

"'Course." Harry got up from the chair to prove that he was fully capable of going anywhere he wanted to, but in his drunken state he instead found himself sprawled on the floor mere seconds later. Spotting the colourful decorations on the ceiling that he for some reason suddenly found very funny, he started laughing.

Hermione moaned slightly as Ron let his hand slip under her blouse and she hastily chose to accept Harry's statement at it's face value. "Great! We'll, eh .. see you in the morning, ri-right Harry?" Before Harry had a chance to answer, though, she was out of the door with a grinning Ron in tow.

Harry stayed on the floor for a while, trying to sort out his thoughts. He had noticed at one point during the night that he was becoming more drunk than he logically should have, since he mainly drank pumpkin juice, but he had already been too drunk to remember, why he wanted to stay sober in the first place. Eventually, he got up – not noticing that his vision was now dramatically more blurred than just a moment before – and fought his way to the door, stumbling over the many sleeping bodies, while feeling giddily happy with no apparent reason.

He stepped outside, not even noticing the profound rain.

* * * *

Tonight had been an unusually hard night with work until 10 pm and afterwards a celebration party, held by one of his resent clients. A very wealthy client, which had prevented him from declining the invitation as his boss would most likely have killed him, had he done so. After all, what better place to meet future wealthy clients than at a former wealthy clients house? It was a perfect business opportunity.

He put up his umbrella as he stepped out onto the street and sighed heavily. He was very glad that he did not have to go to work in the morning, seeing that he was seriously lacking sleep. He would have to work on a few cases, of course, but he could do that in his own apartment, which would noticeably lower the stress level. While his office was nice, he found it very disturbing that colleagues would drop by every now and then with no apparent reason. Therefore, he stayed at home to work, whenever he had the chance.

Standing in front of his apartment, he noticed a huddled figure in the shadows by the corner of the building. At first, the figure was still, and he suspected that it had passed out, but after a moment the person moved and tried to get up, using the wall as support. As the figure got up, a flash of recognition hit him: he knew that figure! Hell, every wizard in the world probably knew Harry Potter, but just looking at the figure he knew him, whereas others needed to see the scar to be sure.

In a few long strides, he was at the corner.

He watched as the slightly smaller person struggled to keep standing, and he unconsciously took a step closer to see, if Potter was injured. What meet him, as he stepped closer, made his eyes widen far more than any of the small injuries that Potter sported alone would have. He was hit by the smell of alcohol, which made his eyes slowly narrow, as he tried to figure out, why that exact smell would come from Potter. Potter never got drunk; he knew that for a fact.

The drunk boy had yet to notice his presence, while he on the other hand quickly noted Potter's drenched clothes and he had to wonder, why the hero hadn't bothered with neither a jacket nor an umbrella, when he wandered mindlessly outside at 5 am in the middle of November. This was when his brain caught up with him and kindly reminded him of the amount of alcohol the boy wonder would have had to consume to reek as extensively of alcohol as he did at the moment.

Swearing under his breath, he slowly extended his umbrella to cover both Potter and himself, which after a while made the raven haired boy freeze. _Well, he's conscious enough to notice that it stopped raining rather abruptly, at least._ He watched as the smaller frame beside him slowly started turning, presumably to see what had stopped the rain.

"Potter." He said in a way of greeting, looking into the green depths that had already seen more than a several lives worth of pain, yet was still filled with warm feelings.

* * * *

Harry had been wandering for quite a while, he was aware of that much. He also knew that he originally had been heading for home, which only his drunken, optimistic state had allowed him to, as his sober self would have known that he was very far from his apartment and additionally in a part of London that he barely knew at all.

He reached yet another street corner that looked exactly like the previous; at any rate, it was just as dark and blurred as everything ells around him. He walked towards the light coming from the nearest lamp pole in the hope that he would be able to see better once in the light. Due to his relatively fast stride towards the light, he failed to notice a loose flagstone in front of him (he probably wouldn't have noticed it under any circumstances), which resulted in sudden contact between his head and the pavement.

It took a while before he moved again and then only to crawl towards the wall of the closest building. He sat there catching his breath for a few minutes, not detecting the blood that ran from the newly required wound on his forehead. When the dizziness he felt had disappeared partly, he fought his way to his feet with the support of the nearby wall. He was still standing like that, when he suddenly noted that it had stopped raining. That it, it had apparently only stopped raining on him, since he could still hear that rain hit the street beside him.

Turning slowly as to not become dizzy again, he suddenly found himself rather close to another person. "Potter." A man, definitely a man. Or well, it could be an unfortunate woman with a male-like voice. Harry reached out towards the person, trying to determine for sure, whether or not it was a man. Unfortunately, he had calculated the distance between them incorrectly, resulting in him grabbing thin air, which in turn resulted in the dizziness coming back full force. He felt his legs give after and his already blurred vision narrowed down to near nothing.

Just as darkness took him, he felt strong arms wrap around his upper body.

TBC

_- __Please, do review._


	2. Day 2

**The Scent of Power**

_by Gomenace_

**Disclaimer:** The universe of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing some of her characters for entertainment. I make no money on any of my writings.

**Warnings:** This story will be slash eventually. If you don't like slash, don't read this story. I won't accept critique on the fact that my story contains slash, but constructive criticism of my writing and/or plot is highly appreciated.

Draco is rather OOC, but there's a reason behind his behaviour that will become clear later in the story.

**Rating:** Rated M for future sexual scenes and adult themes. This chapter, however, contains no references to male/male relationships.

**A/N: **I have now completed the storyline for this story and it's going to be 19 chapter + an epilogue.

Enjoy this chapterཀ

* * * *

**Chapter two:**

The next morning, when Harry started to become aware, he was more then ready to believe that Voldemort had returned; the pain in his head surely had some Voldemort-related reason. Yes, Voldemort was the explanation to all pain in Harry's life. Or well, maybe not _all_ pain, per se. If that had been true, then Harry should have lived in pure bliss for the past eleven months – yet he hadn't. Actually, his life after Voldemort's demise was often so complicated and problematical that Harry had taken himself wishing for the rise of a new dark wizard, just so that the masses would leave him alone. Naturally, he didn't _truly_ wish for another dark wizard any time soon – the wizarding world deserved a period with peace – but he did want the masses to forget about him, more than anything actually. Something neither Ron nor Ginny understood. Hermione was more understanding, but she wanted him to accept it nonetheless and use the political powers that came with the fame; mainly in favour of the legislation that she happened to be trying to get the ministry to approve of, of course. "_Honestly, Harry, I already know you support my case; I can't see how it makes any difference to you, whether or not the public know this as well."_

Harry tried to open his eyes ever so slowly, but as the first drop of light pushed past his eyelids, he, immediately, closed them again. The pain in his head intensified in magnitude by many times; which he hadn't thought possible mere seconds before. When the flashing colours dissipated a little and he could focus his thoughts just partly, he slowly turned his head, so that he was facing the pillow. Lying like this, an unfamiliar – but very sweet – scent hit him full force; also, the fabric was too soft ever to be found in Harry's apartment. Harry couldn't place the smell on anyone or anywhere, but it had a strangely calming effect on him (not that he wasn't calm to begin with; his body didn't really leave him a choice as the connection from his brain to his muscles seemed to have disappeared over night).

This was when he heard a door opening, or at least he thought it was the sound of a door opening; his pain filled and rather muffled brain could easily be wrong.

"I see that you are finally waking."

The smooth voice came from across the room, supposedly near the door. Harry winced slightly at the sound and gave up answering verbally all together; his throat hurt at the plain thought of saying something. Instead, he moved his hand in a way that was meant to signalise '_don't say another word__ཀ_', but the meaning of his hand waving was obviously lost on the other person, whoever it was, as he continued to address Harry:

"It's about time really; unlike you, I actually have to go to work. Besides, there are some bits concerning last night that you'll have to explain to me over breakfast."

Harry's stomach turned at the work breakfast and, unconsciously, he must have made some displeased noise, as the other person started laughing. The laugh was pleasant and, surprisingly, did not worsen the pain in his head. Harry let the laugh surround him and soothe his ears until a train of thoughts caught up with him. _Wait, last night? What happened? Where am I?_ Harry began to turn his head again to examine both the room and the other person standing in it, but that other person apparently had the ability to move without sound, since Harry suddenly – _out of nowhere__ཀ_ – felt a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no, don't be stupidཀ" A sigh was heard. "At least don't open your eyes, if you know what's best for yourself. There is really no need to make this anymore unpleasant. I reckon you have a massive headache, and just so you know; light is not going to make it any better." Harry wanted to interrupt and let the talking person know that he _knew_ – from experience – what light did, but the person didn't give him a chance. "Here, open up. Come now, I'm really not very patient. You should know that, Potter."

Harry felt something against his lips and the tell tale smell of a potion reached his nose; it made him nauseous, but the hand holding the potion was very firm and soon the liquid pushed past his lips and he was forced to swallow it. However awful the liquid, it instantly cleared his head and he felt much better. The headache had not disappeared completely, but it was now manageable. Harry felt blissful and utterly missed the beginning of the sentence, when the talkative stranger addressed him once more.

".. some clothes for you in the bathroom – trust me, you wouldn't want to wear you own. Wash and come find me in the kitchen. Do be quick about it."

Harry opened his eyes just in time to see a whole lot of blurry blond hair leave his bedside. Very blond, yes, a kind blond that was characteristic of one specific family. It was Malfoy-ish blond, meaning that the talkative stranger was – most likely, anyway – none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, I couldn't find your glasses, so I've transfigured a temporary pair for you. They are on the night stand."

_Shit._ Harry closed his eyes again and let his head fall back on the pillow.

* * * *

After showering and dressing in the clothes that Draco had left for him, Harry cautiously opened the door to the hall way. The clothes were luxurious and unlike anything Harry had ever seen - much less worn before. It was a kimono style rope in light silken material that fell smoothly over every curve of his body. The rope was rich, dark blue with silvery flowers that seemingly moved by the blow of a non-existing wind decorating it. Silver leaves grew up the sleeves and curled around his neck, creating a frame that emphasized some of his features, his jaw, lips and eyes. The rope was held together by a silver scarf and altogether Harry loved it. The glasses matched the ropes in colour perfectly and was very simple in the design, making them less prominent on his face than his normal glasses.

Some of Harry's enthusiasm over the clothes disappeared, however, as he stepped out into a hall way containing so many doors that it rather resembled a castle corridor than part of the apartment that it supposedly was. Harry didn't know exactly where he was, but he was positive that he wasn't at the Malfoy Manor; the style of the rooms was too modern and the place didn't feel old. A place like the Malfoy Manor contained so many memories that you could feel it in the air, but no memories disturbed the peace in this place.

Though the hall way consisted of many doors, only one was open and Harry went for it in the hope that Draco was behind it. Snooping around was the furthest thing on his mind as he already felt like too much of an intruder.

Harry stopped dead in the doorway. The room behind the open door was illuminated by the light from the noon sun that was in full view from the enormous window that covered the back wall. While furnished exquisitely in mahogany, anything ells in the room was in light colours giving the room a nice and pleasant atmosphere.

In the middle of the room by the mahogany table sat Malfoy, his hair almost golden in the sunlight, the Prophet opened in front of him. As if sensing Harry's presence, Malfoy lifted his eyes from the paper and turned towards the door.

"Did you drink the potion I left for you by the sink?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "It was a strong painkiller that will last until tonight. It will give your body time to heal naturally. Put some healing balm on your injuries tonight before you go to bed. That should leave you good as new by tomorrow morning."

Noticing that Harry had yet to move, he lifted his brow in a very familiar gesture. "There are five more chairs around this table, you know; you are welcome any time."

This prompted Harry to move and he slowly made his was to the table while never taking his eyes of Malfoy. A part of Malfoy's monolog had caught his attention and though he fully expected Malfoy to laugh at him, he asked, "Why not just add the healing balm now?"

Malfoy looked momentarily taken aback by the question, but surprisingly didn't laugh. "As I said, giving the injuries a day's rest to heal naturally; it will lower the risk of scars. If the healing balm was added immediately, your body would not have had time to prepare for the healing."

"But Madam Pomfrey always added it right away."

"Yes, well she's a mediwitch. She uses spells to prepare the injuries for healing – unfortunately, I only know basic healing based on potions."

Harry nodded his understanding and finally took a seat at the table. "I only asked out of interest in the subject. I am above grateful for what you have done for me."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry's first statement. "You are interested in healing?" Instead of answering, Harry immediately looked away, which, unfortunately, told Malfoy more than Harry himself could have in word; healing, for some reason, was a soft spot for Harry. Obviously deciding to just save this information for later, Malfoy answered Harry's second statement, thereby breaking the now slightly uncomfortable silence, "Your gratitude - while appreciated - is not necessary; I'm quite sure that you - being our saviour and all - would have done the same had someone decided to camp on your door step in the middle of the night."

Harry couldn't stop his lips from turning slightly upwards at this mental picture. "If only I had been camping, but I am quite sure that you found me in a slightly more humiliating condition last night, Malfoy"

Malfoy smiled knowingly, but turned his attention back to the newspaper. "I remember nothing of the sort, Potter. You must have been dreaming." Turning a page, he continued, "Go ahead and eat something, I reckon you are hungry."

Harry was indeed hungry and let his eyes wander over the content of the table, while pushing out the chair opposite Malfoy. What he found on the table surprised him greatly; an exact replica of his usual morning table at home, down to the smallest detail. Harry would never have believe it, if someone told him that Malfoy bought milk from a muggle store, but he could hardly contradict the proof in front of him. What Harry found most unnerving, however, was that Malfoy neither looked like he had eaten nor like he intended to. In his wonder, Harry had apparently stayed silent too long, because Malfoy suddenly looked at him, his eyes just visible above the newspaper. "If there's something ells, you'd rather like? I could easily .. "

"No, noཀ It's perfect, thank youཀ" Harry hurriedly reassured the blond man and gave him a smile to let him know that he truly was grateful.

Harry's meal was eaten in silence, but unlike the uneasy silence that Harry would have expected, it was a relaxed, comfortable silence that left Harry strangely content. The sound of Malfoy turning a page in the newspaper made Harry look up and he found himself smiling again, when he realized that Malfoys face told very clearly what he was reading, or what he thought of it at least. He spent the remainder of his time eating, trying to decipher what was written in the newspaper from the small nuances of annoyance or satisfactory on Malfoys face. It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that Harry realized that he had never seen Malfoy this open before. As if Malfoy was unused to having company in the mornings and therefore had forgot to put on the usual arrogant Malfoy-mask that he normally wore in public.

Malfoy folded the newspaper and put it down on the table the moment Harry finished his last bite, but he didn't say anything at first; he seemed strangely content with watching Harry, which in turn made Harry squirm self-consciously in his seat. When he finally released Harry from his gaze it was with a tender smile that would have made Harry gasp, hadn't he stopped himself in time. The smile was so genuine and real that Harry felt like an intruder for having seen it and it made Harry want to know, what Malfoy had been thinking of in that moment to bring forth such a lovely smile.

"You were attending a party at Blaise's house yesterday evening, were you not?"

"Yes, we were celebrating his birthday." Harry silently wondered, why Malfoy hadn't attended the party himself, but he let the thought rest, as he had a feeling that Malfoy had more questions. Harry's response made Malfoy frown for some reason, but the frown was gone within seconds and Harry had to wonder if it had been there at all. _Weren't he invited? Have the two of them had a falling out? _Several questions popped into Harry's mind, but he voiced none of them.

"I see. And did you go to the party with someone unusual?"

"Well, no. I went with Hermione and Ron as usual. Actually, Hermione mentioned at one point that they had helped Blaise with the preparations to the party, which I found rather odd, since they normally - especially Ron, though - go out of their way to avoid any contact with Slytherins. No offence, Malfoy."

"None taken, Potter. Granger and Weasley, you say?" Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment, before he continued with his questions. "What made you decide to drink? That is a rather unusual decision for you."

"How did you know? .. " He bit his lip, looking unsure for just a second, "Eh .. well, I'm not exactly sure, I mean .. I didn't intend to drink, but quite obviously, I did. I don't remember, when I started, but I know that I had juice at the beginning of the evening. Both apple and pumpkin juice as far as I remember."

"How did I know that you had been drinking, or how did I know that you normally don't? You gave your drinking away with your smell alone last night, and had I managed to oversee that, your vomiting would have been a kind reminder." Harry blushed and sank back in his seat, trying to escape Malfoy's amused gaze, but before he could begin to apologize, Malfoy spoke again. "As for the second part; _you_ are trivial knowledge, Potter. This morning alone, there were two articles on your private life and three other mentions of you in random articles."

_Well, now at least I know what he was reading, when he looked dissatisfied_, Harry thought.

"Luckily for you, though, nobody has sold the story about yesterdays party to the media. Not yet, anyway. The Profet would enjoy getting their greasy hands on that one." Malfoy sneered at the folded paper, but quickly returned his attention to Harry. He seemed to be considering something and Harry felt his curiosity take interest in the conversation. "Am I right, when I think that you would like to keep last night from the public?"

Harry nodded, but now it was his turn to frown. "Of course, I would like it that way, but honestly, Malfoy. You said it yourself; I am trivial knowledge. The papers are going to run the story no matter what I think and to be honest .. "

Malfoy stopped him mid-sentence, when he got up and rounded the table to stand next to Harry's chair. "I'll see what I can do and contact you, when I know more about the situation. Right now, however, I must be of to work - I have a rather important case to close this afternoon and you would probably want to head back home anyway, as I have a feeling, your friends will be over to check on you soon."

Harry couldn't help but snort at this statement, as he knew it was true. Both Ron and Hermione would most definitely come by his apartment if they remembered how drunk he had been - or the fact that he had been drinking at all. Actually, they had made a habit of coming by ever so often even when nothing was wrong and if Harry - for one reason or another - disappeared for a couple of hours without notifying them in advance, Hermione would become frantic and demand detailed answers at his return, while Ron would nod in the background. He knew that it was their way of showing that they cared about him, but he often felt trapped and limited by Hermione's never-ending questions. He loved both of his friends dearly, but suspected that their obsession with his where-abouts bordered on something unhealthy.

"What do you do, Malfoy? Work-wise, I mean." He specified his question, when he realised that his question once again could be related to several parts of Malfoys statement. He slowly rose from his chair and arched his left eyebrow at Mafoy, when the other man gallantly pulled his chair out behind him. "Eh .. Thanks?" He grinned, when Malfoy merely mimicked his expression as if to challenge him to comment further on the subject.

"You are welcome, Potter, and to answer your question; I am training to become a PI, a Private Investigator." He swiftly turned around and led Harry back into the hallway and through one of the closed doors, which turned out to hold the living room. When they reached the fireplace Malfoy turned towards Harry again, now holding out a vase that most likely contained floo powder. Harry reached out and took a handful of the pro-offered powder, where after he looked sheepishly at Malfoy. "I really am going to find a way to thank you properly. I don't know what would have become of me, if you hadn't taken me in."

Malfoy smirked at this, while he put the vase back on the shelf. "Oh, you would have been found by one of your fangirls eventually and she would have had her wicked way with you for several hours before you could even regain consciousness. So really, all I did was prevent you from having an impressive amount of sex - you should not thank me." If Malfoy had been paying attention at that moment, he would have noticed that Harry looked positively green after the description of what could have happened (since he realised that it could have happened just as easily - after all, fangirls _were_, in all honesty, more frequent than helpful Malfoys), but Harry had regained his composure and plastered a grin on his face, when Malfoy again looked at him.

"Ever the Slyttherin; you guys alway need an excuse for being nice."

Mafoy didn't answer this, but his lips turned slightly upwards. "I promise to let you know what I find on the matter of last night. Expect an owl in the evening if not before then." He stopped aside from the fireplace to give Harry room. " Take it easy today - you took quite a hit to your head last night."

Harry lightly touched the back of his head, where he clearly felt a wound, but the painkiller prevented him from feeling the pain of it, for which he was rather grateful as the cut seemed to be quite deep. He also knew that he had a much smaller cut on his right chin and some bruises on his lower back that he had noticed while he took a bath. The bruises would probably grow more colourful as the day went by, but a bit of healing balm in the evening should be able to rectify that. All in all, it would have been very uncomfortable had Malfoy not thought ahead of time and given him the potions as soon as he woke this morning. Well, this _noon_, anyway. It is hardly morning, when it is past eleven.

"I promise you that I won't do much today. I'll probably just do a bit of reading and go to bed early. Ehmm, have a nice day at work, Malfoy. And thanks once again. Oh, and, eh .. You'll get all of this back as soon a possible." He sad this while pointing downwards over himself, referring to the clothes.

As Harry was about to step into the fireplace, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "I almost forgot to give you this." Harry turned his head and saw Malfoy reaching for something in his pocket. He found it and held it out to Harry. "I didn't know if you had any healing balm at home, so I took the liberty of brewing some." Harry smiled gratefully and accepted the jar, fully knowing that he had lots of it at home. "Remember; add it tonight before bed and tomorrow morning. That should do the trick."

Harry nodded and gave Malfoy another thankful smile, before he stepped into the fireplace and called out his own apartment. He clearly felt the loss of Malfoy's hand on his shoulder as he was whisked away by the floo system.

* * * *

When Harry arrived home, he went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. For once, he wished that he had some coffee in the apartment, since staying with Malfoy - who apparently preferred coffee over tea - had left him with a slight craving for it, though he normally swore by tea; hence, tea was all he had.

After having prepared a pot, he went to his study, where he sat down by the desk that currently held several piles of paperwork. He sighed heavily and took a small sip of the still scolding hot tea before concentrating on the work in front of him, starting with the pile from Gringotts. He kept at this for a long while, but when he caught himself thinking of Malfoy for the third time, which in turn caused him to write nonsense on the papers, he gave up and pushed himself away from the desk. Truth was that the Malfoy he had seen this morning intrigued him in a way no other person did. What had made him change so much from the short-tempered, egocentric boy he had once been? Harry didn't know what had caused the changes, but he _had _noticed, when they appeared. It had been at the very beginning of their seventh year.

_~ flashback ~_

"Ronཀ The train is pulling in to the station already and you haven't changed to your school ropes yetཀ Honestly, you are supposed to make a good example in front of the younger students - that's what being a prefect is aboutཀ Hurry nowཀ"

Harry mentally rolled his eyes at Hermione's hysterics; it was the same every year, so how come she was surprised? Harry would almost be disappointed if Ron thought ahead of time and changed before they reached Hogsmeade. He heard a muttered '_yes, mam_' that was clearly not meant to reach the ears of the aggravated headgirl, but did none the less and this resulted in yet another shrilly monologue from Hermione.

Harry grabbed his back and pushed the door aside - to get of the train as it had now stopped moving - only to collide with another person, when he sat foot outside the compartment. He was taken completely by surprise and would have fallen, had the other person not grabbed his shoulders to stabilize him. "Oyཀ Watch where you are going, Potter." Harry, of course, recognized the voice, but knew immediately that something was of about Malfoy - there was no malice in his voice. No fond feelings either, mind you, but Harry had never before heard Malfoy this .. neutral. As if Harry was completely irrelevant to his existence, which left Harry feeling oddly sad.

Malfoy let go of him, when Ron came barging through the door. "Get your slimy fingers of Harry, you gitཀ" A statement that Harry found rather unfitting since Malfoy had done so already. He expected Malfoy to have a come-back ready at hand and was shocked, when all he did was incline his heard towards Harry with a polite "Excuse me.", and walk away with his hand behind his head in a relaxed posture, showing that he didn't fear anything from them as he left his wand safely in his pocket.

_~ end, flashback ~_

Harry was awoken from his thoughts by a tapping sound on the window, which turned out to be an owl Harry never had seen before. It looked incredibly insulted, when he offered it an owl treat and had that not been a scary look on an owl as indignation was mainly thought of as a human trait, he would have laughed when he noticed, to whom the grumpy owl belonged.

"_P,_

_According to my sources, all beverages at the party contained alcohol._

_Talk to your friends, I have a feeling they know more about this._

_I'll write again, when I know more,_

_Your Nemesis_.

_Ps. They will be over to see you soon._"

_My Nemesis?_ Harry chuckled quietly at Malfoy's casual use of his school yard title. During the first six years at Hogwarts, he had truly been the nemesis of Harry's existence Voldemort had been the evil incarnated in Harry's life and Snape .. Well, Snape had been Snape, but Malfoy had been the one to level out the admiring masses and in many ways, Harry was grateful. Whenever he had needed to take of some steam Malfoy would be there, initiating a fight of some sort, be it in insults, hexes or glares.

During their last year, however, Malfoy had all but ignored Harry existence.

A couple of minutes went by before Harry realised the meaning of Malfoys letter. _All beverages? And Ron and Hermione had something to do with it? _This made Harry frown deeply and he suddenly looked forward to the expected visit from Ron and Hermione as he had some questions for them. He kept mulling over the information from Malfoy as it didn't fit with his recollection of the evening - he clearly remembered having juice and had it contained alcohol, he would have tasted it, would he not? He took a piece of parchment to write a quick 'thank you'-note to Malfoy, as the owl seemed to be waiting for a reply. Meanwhile, he wondered how Malfoy knew that Ron and Hermione would be coming by soon as oppose to later in the day. After all, it was only a little past noon and his two friends tended to sleep in whenever they had been drinking the night before.

Under normal circumstances, he would probably have questioned his trust in Malfoy, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to question the genuine person that he had meet this morning. Besides, if Malfoy had wanted to harm Harry - either physically or in the face of the media - he had plenty of chances during the night and in the morning. Instead, he had been .. nice.

* * * *

Only ten minutes went by before he heard the floo go off as his two friends came through, and though he didn't answer their calls, they found him relatively quickly as they knew he spend most of his days in his study. Normally they would have gone directly to the study, but he noticed that they went by his bedroom first this morning, which confirmed that they knew - and remembered - that he had been drinking. More than was usual, that is. He pretended to be deeply engrossed in his work, when they entered the room, but noticed nonetheless that Hermione seemed more than a little relieved to find him. As if she hadn't really expected to find him in the apartment, when he weren't in bed.

"Harryཀ You're .. You're up already? I'm so glad that you found you way home last nightཀ I was so worried when I woke up and realised how drunk you were last night - honestly, I can't believe that you didn't get lostཀ Did you take a cap? Oh, but you didn't have any money with you, did you? You really should have flooed from Blaise's house - given that you could pronounce your apartment correctly of course, which would have surprised me in your state. I would have never imagined that you would walk from thereཀ When did you get home? It must have been only hours ago. The letter said that you walked, but it didn't say when or how you got home. I can't believe that you would walkཀ Harry, honestlyཀ Do you even know the area where Blaise lives?"

_No, but it must be relatively close to where Malfoy lives_, Harry thought. "I did indeed walk from Blaise's house and I arrived home only an hour and a half ago." He finally looked up from his papers and caught sight of the letter in Hermione's hand. "What do you mean 'the letter said I walked'? Who wrote it?"

"Wh-what?ཀ An hour and a half? Harryཀ What are you doing up? I know you don't like to sleep in, because you feel like you are 'wasting the day', but it's unhealthy to go an entire day on potionsཀ And I know you are unused to drinking much, but you most realize that your body needs rest after such a long nightཀ And even though sobriety potions and a hangover potions take care of most of the symptoms, the alcohol is still in your bodyཀ Harry, list now-"

"I slept, Hermione."

"-I'm telling you; you really need to .. Wait, what? How could you have .. ? You slept? Slept where? Harry?" Harry almost felt sorry for interrupting her, when he saw the utterly confused look on her face. She clearly weren't at her best this 'morning', which Harry - knowing Hermione's impressive drinking habits at parties - fully understood. Moreover, he knew that both Ron and her probably hadn't had hangover potions yet, since neither of them would have been able to brew them this morning and Hermione didn't keep potions in her apartment in case her muggle family went snooping around. Harry seriously doubted that the two of them had slept at the Burrow where many a pair of ears would follow their nightly activities. Under normal circumstances, Harry would have left the potions, when he followed them home, but he hadn't been in any state to follow them home last night.

"The letter, Mione. Who sent the letter?" Harry was quite eager to know, who had been sober enough to realize that Harry left on foot last night, as that person most likely also had a story that the papers would love.

"Wh-what?" Harry pointed at the letter in her hand. "Ohཀ Yes, well .. I don't know." _Hermione don't know? Now that's a first. _"It's addressed to both Ron and me, so the person must know that we're together. But .. it's really rather rude. It all but states that we aren't worthy of your friendship, because we left you yesterday, I mean .. We're really sorry, but we were drunk as wellཀ You wouldn't have been much better of with us as guides."

Harry turned to look at Ron, who so far hadn't said a word, which was rather uncharacteristic of him, but said red haired, young man only shrugged when Harry looked at him, showing that he too had no idea who wrote the letter.

After hearing the content, however, Harry had a pretty good idea as to who wrote it. Especially, when taking into consideration the letter Harry had received only a short while ago.

"I'm a bit curious myself, as to why I suddenly decided to drink last night."

"Yes, well .. one doesn't really need a reason to drink, while with friends, right?" Hermione looked distinctly uncomfortable at the change of subject. "Drinking is after all a big part of the celebrating traditions amongst the younger generations. Why actually, also with most of the older generations."

"Yeah, mate. You were just having a good time. That's all."

"Hm, I suppose you are right." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry immediately cut her off. "But- .. It seems peculiar to me that I don't even remember _starting_ to drink."

"We all drank a lot yester-"

"Yes, that much is obvious. What I find even more peculiar though, is that a letter I received minutes before your arrival proclaims that you know more than you have been letting on so far about last nights incident. Strange, really. Because I'm sure my two best friends would have told me already, had they had anything to do with my unexplainable and sudden taste for alcohol. They would have accepted my choice not to drink and never, _never_ rob me of my freedom to choose. Silly letter-writer. Clearly there must be some sort of misunderstanding."

"Harry, we .. that is-"

"Please, tell me, you had nothing to do with what happened yesterday. Both of you. Tell me that you had nothing to do with the alcohol."

"But, Harry-"

"No."

"Harry, really-"

"No. Just say it, Mione."

"We never expected it to get out of hands the way it did, Harryཀ Honest. We didn't intend to get drunk ourselves. We just wanted you to have a good time." Harry noticed that both of his friends looked sincerely sorry, and he had to look away from their faces to keep himself from forgiving them without further ado. It wouldn't do to forgive them so soon. After all, he was truly angry with their actions, and he felt betrayed in a way.

"Getting drunk is the inevitable result of drinking too much alcohol, as you both well know. You should have stuck with non-alcoholic drinks; oh wait, the were none. Courtesy of you, I believe."

"We planned on-"

"Please leave."

"What?"

"Leave. Now." When neither one of them made a move, he stood and moved toward the door of his study, opening the door and holding it open for them. "Please, I need some time alone. I know you weren't trying to hurt me, but you should have realized that I wouldn't appreciate my freedom being taken from me. You know I hated how Dumbledore decided things for me without my consent, thinking that he knew better than I. This is exactly the same. And as drunk as I was, anything could have happened to me; and while nothing serious did happen, it still could have."

"We're really sorry, Harry." Hermione looked rather shocked after listening to Harry and she slowly moved past him through the door, only hesitating a second to lightly touch his arm, her hesitation making Harry realise that she truly hadn't considered beforehand that he could have been hurt, while drunk.

"Sorry, mate." Ron too left the room shortly after Hermione and Harry silently watched them as they disappeared into his living room.

Hearing them leave through the floo, Harry went and sat back down at his desk and sighed heavily, starring for a long while at seemingly noting or perhaps just the plain far end wall of his study. Slowly, he removed his glasses - once again being reminded of Malfoy - and covered his face with both hands. He felt exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted.

* * * *

As Harry was about to go to bed some hours later, someone knocked on the door, and he briefly considered ignoring it, tired as he was, but he opened the door nonetheless. He was more than a bit surprised to find Ginny standing outside with two small baskets over her right arm and a big smile on her face.

"Ginny? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

"Geez, Harry. How about a hi? Or are you truly that disappointed to see me?"

"No. No, of course not, Ginny. You just surprised me, that's all." He finally pulled himself together and gave her a smile in return, stepping out to give her a brief hug. Meanwhile looking her over to see, if she was hurt, but found that she looked both healthy and calm. "Hi Ginny. Better?"

"Very."

"Will you tell me what you are doing here, then?"

"Professor Dumbledore let me leave after classes today - it is Friday after all, so no lesson to attend in the morning and it is Mum and dad's wedding day tomorrow. I wanted to do something special for them."

"I'm sure they'll love it, Ginny, but which part brings you here?"

"The blue moon flowers are mum's favourite and they can only be harvested during the full moon, which happens to be tonight. I want to make her a bouquet. Will you, please, help me collect them?"

"Gin, I'm sorry, but I'm really tired and-"

"I haven't seen you in a long time, Harry. And it is raining. It'll take me _ages_ to finish collecting the flowers all by myself."

"Ginny, I .. "

"They grow nearby."

"It's just that-"

"Please, Harry. I need your help."

That was the moment Harry's saving-people-thing kicked in.

Thus, Harry spent the second night in a row outside in the rain; though he - admittedly - would remember more of it this time around come morning. That thought, however, was not enough to comfort Harry, who most of all wished that he could crawl into bed and sleep undisturbed till dawn the following day. The Painkiller Potion from this morning had stopped working by now, and he dearly longed to add the healing balm as soon as possible to soothe the pain that hammered persistently in the back of his head, while he helped Ginny .

For a long while they talked about Hogwarts and quidditch and the relationship between Ron and Hermione. Harry worked concentrated on collecting the tiny blue flowers, trying to forget the pain in his body and meanwhile did his best to answer the questions that consistently rose from the place where Harry surmised that Ginny was working. He had caught a glimpses of red once in a while, when her hair reflected the moonlight, but the bushes hid her most of the time. When his basket was full, he went in search of his friend and found her lying in the grass, looking at the sky.

"You finished already? I'm done too-"

That was the moment Harry noticed that Ginny's basket was empty.

"Ginny? Why haven't you collected any flowers?"

"Perfectཀ Thank you, Harryཀ I couldn't have done it without your helpཀ"

With a kiss pressed to Harry's cheek, Ginny took the basket wherein Harry had placed the many flowers he had harvested during the past hour and quickly apparated away without a backwards glance. Left behind was a very confused Harry Potter, who nonetheless apparated directly into his own bedroom and crawled into bed after carefully applying the healing balm to his now painfully sore body. He was asleep within seconds.

TBC

_- Please, do review._

A/N: I apologize for my mistakes; be it typing errors, mistakes in grammar or spelling errors. I am trying to better my English and writing fanfiction is part of that - please tell me, what mistakes I make so that I may correct them.

I would love to have a beta, if someone is interested.

This chapter was probably a bit longer than my other chapters will be, but it just kept expanding every time I added a scene. I had a hard time finally wrapping it up.

Thank you so much for readingཀ


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